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2013.04.02 - We've Got a Job for You
Agent Coulson is one again cooling his heels at the front security desk of the Baxter Building. He chats briefly with Brian about the upcoming baseball season before announcing that he's here to see Ms. Storm. He was a few minutes early after all. But right on the dot, he asks to her to be notified. "Let Ms. Storm I'm here for her 2 a.m. appointment." He doesn't exactly know why it was so late, Sue probably took a Fantasticar to the West Coast for something, or possibly Japan. He's had a busy day so he hasn't had a chance to chase that particular detail down. He checks his phone for messages while he waits for Brian to help him out. Upstairs, Brian rings Sue for this late night, clandestine meeting. "Ms. Storm, Agent Coulson is here to see you." He doesn't add the 'again'. There's no need really. Sue Storm was indeed out on the west coast earlier today, and got in herself less than fifteen minutes before. Of course, when traveling by herself she actually uses commercial airliners. Now, getting back to the Baxter from the airport, she TOTALLY cheats. When Brian's call comes through on her phone, she replies promptly. "Thank you, Brian. Send him up." She pulls her hair up into a high ponytail as she waits for the SHIELD agent to arrive. Phil never got to look at his phone, the reply coming before he could check it. So it's not until the doors close and he's riding the box to Sue's office that he has time to pull it out and eye the device. This does not look like Phil's phone. The icons are gone, the wallpaper has been changed, and in it's place the image is split down the middle. One half of the phone screen is black, the other half orange with a scowling eye slot cut into it. The trademark armored helm of one Deathstroke. The image fades and is replaced by the Statue of Liberty with a weeeeeeeeee orange arrow pointing to the torch high in the hand. Beneath that is a time. 2:30am. Then the phone goes black again, followed by a ticking clock counting down the time all the way to the millisecond. The fact that it shows up much like a TV show's melodramatic time bomb readout counting down is not all that comforting. Phil Coulson would curse under different circumstances. He really, really would. If he were in a place where such an action wouldn't be recorded for someone to report to someone else. His lips get tight as he realizes that his phone has been 'jacked. He limits himself to a little sarcasm as he speaks to himself in the elevator shaft. "Well, thank you for the note. I so appreciate the timeliness of it." He starts pacing briskly in the elevator, something that's noted by Reed Richard's internal surveillance. The computer notifies Sue that the occupant of the elevator seems to be agitated about something or other. The high speed elevator makes Phil's ear's pop as he yawns. It's going to be another very late night. He should be used to them by now. He paces and plans and then the elevator stops. The doors roll open and he steps out. "Good to see you, Sue," he says briskly. He's on a schedule now after all. He holds the door to the elevator. "Something's come up and I could use your help. I need a lift to the Statue of Liberty within the next..." He checks his phone. "Eleven minutes and 37 seconds to make my next appointment. Could I trouble you for a lift?" He smiles hopefully. Sue Storm got the message about Agent Coulson seeming agitated so was there by the elevator when the doors opened. Of course, his requesting a lift is still a bit of a surprise, but she recovers quickly enough. "Oh. Of course. This way." She leads him away from the living and kitchen areas of this floor, toward what looks like a dead end hallway. The french doors at the end of the hall lead only to a balcony completely devoid of furniture. A faint shimmer about six inches up from the balcony's surface indicates the presence of one of her force fields as she holds out one hand to Phil. "Step on when you're ready." Phil Coulson follows Sue, his brain tracking in two, or more directions at once. "Thank you Sue... I wouldn't impose, but this next appointment is... well, I'm sure I can trust your discretion about it when we get there." He follows her, hesitating only a moment before taking a step forward onto the shimmer, and taking Sue's hand. He lets her guide him, as there's very little visual cue's for him to work with. "I hope we can talk on the way. How did you hear about the crisis with Superman?" Sue Storm closes the force field around them both, not enough to prevent any air from getting through, but enough so it doesn't seem like they both just traveled to the Statue via wind tunnel. "A message got through on my cell phone about the same time one of the televisions started playing an announcement saying to evacuate the city. By the time the clinic was cleared and I was able to try and see what was going on, several individuals were already preparing to go after the... whoever they were. There wasn't time for me to ask for instructions, but from it looked like the others were going to try, I thought maybe it would be better if I went ahead quietly and made sure that Superman wouldn't get hurt in the meantime." By the time she's done with this part of her explanation, they're already approaching Lady Liberty from an altitude just a bit higher than the statue is tall. Phil Coulson holds Sue's hand and doesn't really let go, listening carefully to her talk about her involvement. He definitely doesn't look down. Anywhere but down. "They, the beings you encountered were either Kryptonians, or Cloned Kryptonians, genetic relatives of Superman. We don't know where they came from, so it's just speculation at this point." He wonders how Sue and Wonder Woman both use Invisible means of transport briefly and decides that they probably do it so much it is second nature to them. "So, you joined the ascending forces and then what happened? We have very sketchy reports about what went on inside the... thing." He's clearly distracted or he'd have used a more descriptive word. As they approach, he points down toward the flat ring top of the torch. That seems like Slade Wilson's style. "Over there, I think," he says. Glancing down at the buildings and streets flashing past under their feet, Sue realizes that she's had people catch photos of her this way before, and even though it's late at night she takes the precaution of making them invisible to anyone outside of the force field conveying them toward the statue. "Well, the Hulk was with the rest of them, it was rather impressive. They were going for 'shoot first then try to ask questions', I think. All I know is I avoided the fighting by staying where the others wouldn't think I'd be and I just went from hallway to hallway in that ship until I found Superman. There was some ... pompous-looking older man there being rather Dr. Doom-esque, so I snuck up behind Superman as quietly as I could and put a force field around him. Oh, and there was a strange red light focused on him. Like a... a heat lamp or something." The pair of them wind up landing invisibly on one of the highest parts of the Statue, the distant lights of the city sparkling and twinkling in the distance. The city noises are muted, the interior lights of the statue low, with the spotlights that keep the giant green statue bathed in light powered up and casting huge shadows from the ground. Phil is relieved when he can finally see something beneath his feet, and then notices that he's invisible. He checks his phone. It's at One minute, thirty seconds and still counting down. Early again. It's like his special super power. "Whew, with a minute to spare, thank you Sue. I'm here to meet with someone you might have heard of, and I'm going to ask you to refrain from over-reacting. He's a little flamboyant, but he's the man for the job." He ponders a moment. "So... The thing went kablooie due to the actions of the others, and you rescued Superman, and then... when did he start acting like himself again?" Sue Storm's eyebrows draw together a bit. "Like himself? As opposed to what? I helped him get out of that ship before the man with the gold faceplate made the whole thing apparently disappear, and then stopped at the Baxter. He said he could get home fine from there, and I wasn't about to argue." She then mentally rewinds the first part of what Coulson said and ohs, glancing around. "How about I get out of the way then? I'll just... wait over there." She gestures past the railing of the area they're standing on. She goes invisible just as the wind suddenly starts affecting Phil again and her voice says quietly, "I'll stay within earshot." She floats off of the walkway and about a foot out past the outside of the railing, watching in a bit of concern. This all seems way more shady that is her norm. The ring is cast in odd long shadows, caused by the time of night and the manner in which the statue is lit, meant more for seeing it well far away then being able to see well while on it. Mostly because no one is supposed to /be/ on it at night. Deathstroke has been keeping an eye out for the skybike or whatever flying car might bring Coulson in, but he saw nothing, which is saying something because for a guy with one eye, his vision is /superb/. However, as he checks the counting timer in his HUD he freezes. Perhaps it's intuition, maybe so long as a soldier, or it could be his mind doing that thing it does, filtering out extraneous background information and feeding him only that which does not fit, that which isn't natural to his surroundings. He catches a word on the wind, "...kablooie" faint and distorted some how, and instantly his hand closes around the butt of a small high powered SMG on his hip, the other around a grenade that's to illegal for the US armed services to even use... "acting ... again?" That's Coulson's voice. Slade's eye narrows. Who's he talking to? When Phil magically appears less then two dozen feet in front of the assassin, he goes completely still, his mind working feverishly... beneath the helmet, he smiles. "Agent Coulson." he says, timing his greeting just right so that one of the rotating spotlights from far below plays over him as he speaks the words giving him that whole 'appearing from thin air' thing that the stealthy sorts like him can do. Phil Coulson looks up and gives Slade Wilson, Deathstroke the Terminator a respectful nod. "Mr. Wilson. Thank you for getting back to me so promptly." The wind whips his very short hair around a little as he stands there, looking slightly mussed in the winds. "SHIELD would like to know if you're available for short a short term contract." He stands perfectly still, concentrating only on Slade Wilson now. Paying attention to one thing at a time is something he can do well. "Are you interested?" he asks. Sue Storm frowns slightly to herself as this Mr. Wilson person steps out of seemingly nowhere to talk with Coulson. Now she's really glad she stayed here. She might think the guy looks familiar (maybe she saw a picture of him on one of Reed's computers), but one thing she knows for sure is that guns and grenades are never good things. She floats sideways to get a closer look at the man and everything he's carrying, already mentally planning to try and figure out how much of it she can remove before he has a chance to use any of it on Coulson. Hopefully the agent was correct and her precautions won't be needed, but she isn't taking that chance. Deathstroke eyes Phil for a moment before hopping down off of the railing he was squatting on, his heavy boots making a thud when they hit. He's armed to the teeth, guns, grenades, knives, a freakin' broadsword that looks like it must weight a half a ton and require to hands to use, some high tech staff, and god only knows what's in the many pouched and pockets on the utility harness he wears. He's like an armory on legs. "You know my terms. Target, resistance, and..." his grin can be heard through the electronically altered voice, "payment." There's many reasons SHIELD doesn't often deal with Slade, one, he's sort of a 'criminal', and two, he's expensive. When dealing with others Slade charges millions, when dealing with SHIELD he trades in favors. It gets costly. Agent Coulson nods. "I'm familiar," he says. "It's a soft target, data acquisition only and we'd prefer this to have as close to a zero profile as you can manage, so incidental collateral damage to pedestrians is frowned upon." He pauses for a moment. He hates parts of his job. Really hates them. "Star Labs has a considerable amount of research on Kryptonians, and the cloning of Kryptonians. They, of course, deny the existence of such research. We need it. Ordinarily I'd run an operation for this data myself but time is of the essence. We believe that their complete files are stored in a secret facility in the Bronx. Resistance should be top of the line electronic security, and normal human backup. It is Star Labs, we could be wrong about the threat level of their security, but we'd rather you got in, and got out without getting spotted, rather than leave hard evidence of your being there." He looks out at the city, bustling with life even at this late hour and frowns. "For such a soft job, we're offering a quarter million U.S. and the usual considerations." A favor up to and including springing him from any jail on the planet. Literally a get out of jail free card. "Can you have it done within a week?" Sue Storm blinks at Agent Coulson when he puts the offer on the proverbial table. He's going to hire THIS guy to sneak into a secure facility and steal intelligence? That seems REALLY unkosher to her. But, she did promise to not interfere. And she won't. Not until this Wilson guy is gone on his way and she can read the riot act to Phil. There has GOT to be a better way to handle this. Deathstroke goes still. It's a sort of stillness that seems almost unnatural as he processes Coulson's words, "Not much challenge." he laments, his tone suggestion he expected something ... more? "But..." But he knows about the clones of Superman, and whatever else he is he was once a soldier. SHIELD, while paying high for his services, generally (well sometimes, when Slade thinks it's a good call) gets the Friends and Family discount. "Keep your money. I'll take the favor and the completely floor plans and SHIELD's security profile on Stagg Industries R and D facility in San Fransisco instead. Stagg's been a bad boy, he took something that didn't belong to him and getting you to do the leg work for me will save me the time." Phil Coulson doesn't hesitate for an instant to pull the trigger. "Done." He suspected that Stagg Industries like most multinationals got up to no good from time to time, no matter what their mission statement said. And that quarter million dollars would pay for a lot of other useful stuff. And he wouldn't have to justify the line item on his budget before Congress. "I'll forward the address of the lab to your tech wizard immediately and as soon as I get to a secure location, arrange for the floor plans and profile for your building by...." He does some calculations in his head, west coast time meant third shift was just going to work, he'd have to cut some authorizations. "By six A.M... Does that work?" He doesn't mince words with Slade. Hell, he doesn't mince words with anyone. He doesn't have time. Sue Storm floats closer to Coulson again, but keeps watching this Wilson guy warily. She really really doesn't trust him. Yes, definitely. Riot Act, chapter 1. Deathstroke frowns, that was to easy. Hrm. Maybe the job won't be a complete bore after all! Here's hoping. "I should have your intel before the weekend." he says as he considers things. His HUD takes the relevant information for the job and sends it via text to Peabody, so he can begin planning what devices Slade may need. "If this goes pear shaped on you Agent Coulson... You have my number." you know, in case Phil needs someone to single handedly take on an army of superclones. Deathstroke grins at the thought. It's the sort of job he'd likely do for free. Sometimes you just have to do what you love, and cost is not an issue. Phil Coulson nods twice. "Thank you, Mr. Wilson. We, SHIELD, and I appreciate your efforts here. I'd hate to get caught with our pants down for *two* Kryptonian invasions." He walks over toward the ledge, and steps up onto the ledge. He's not looking forward to the next bit. The step of faith onto an invisible force field which he only hopes is there, specifically. On the plus side, if it's *not* there he'll fall to his death and he'll avoid all kinds of awkward questions and statements on the ride back. In the moment, he's not entirely sure which he'd rather experience. He takes a step back, hoping for a force field. Riot Act, he's much rather have the riot act than a terminal plummet to his death he decides in that instant. Sue Storm blinks at Coulson as he steps onto the ledge and then back off of it, fully expecting her to just... be there. Damn that's a cheeky move. But, it is one that she instantly reacts to accordingly. Not only does she make sure he has a surface to step back onto, but the moment both of his feet have left the ledge she closes the force field around him and makes him invisible. Moving closer so she's in the same field she puts one finger to her mouth to silently tell him to remain quiet the moment she's sure he should be able to see her. Deathstroke would never have allowed Phil to die. He's amusing and a resource, not to mention Fury would be very unhappy about that and the last time Fury was unhappy with Deathstroke there was that whole thing in Turkey. It's not profitable for either party. ... ... Now he would have left him hanging upside down from a toe line, dangling like fish bait form the Statue of Liberty... but Deathstroke wouldn't have left him fall. When Phil vanishes like that, Slade doesn't so much as twitch, though his armor instantly begins scanning various wave lengths of light for distortions. Nothing. He swaps to thermal and pauses there. Spherical distortion. Interesting. He smirks beneath the helm and then takes two quick steps, his foot planting on the railing right before the floating bubble the pair are in, and for all the world it looks like the massive armored man is just going to plow straight into them, but he launches himself off of the platform and into the air in a high arcing somersault, gravity reaching up to pluck him from the sky and yank him downward as he clears the force field that he surely could not have seen. Then there's a sudden burst of light as a pair of rockets flare to life, the jet-pack sending the mercenary sailing off over the New York skyline in a graceful arc. Phil Coulson sighs and shakes his head and says little. He clears his throat uncomfortably after a moment of this, giving Slade time to clear the airspace and hopefully earshot. He almost starts to say something but checks himself. He'd rather Sue start the conversation. "I'm sorry I had to involve you in that... exchange, Miss Storm." He knows she's going to react. It's part of her profile. She's the emotional center of the Fantastic Four. He knows he's got something coming. What exactly, he doesn't know, but he knows it's coming. And what's more, he probably deserves it. Sue Storm does indeed look a bit stormy as they start to move away from the Statue and back toward the Baxter. She really didn't like that that Wilson guy seemed to have figured out at least to some degree where the force field was. It's happened before, but it's rare and disconcerting. But she's not going to dwell on that right now. As they're moving through the air (though at a much more sedate pace than last time), she looks at Coulson and appears ready to begin with chapter one of the Riot Act. But she looks at him for a moment too long, apparently, as her expression changes. "When was the last time you slept, Agent Coulson?" How does she make this complete ninety degree turn from where she was about to go? Easy. She's seen Reed work himself into near unconsciousness. Phil Coulson checks his phone. "I had three or four hours of sleep between ten and two a.m. last night." He says tiredly. "I really wish Reed could be brought on board to spearhead this project. He'd be ideal, but if he's not available, he's not available." His shoulders slump a little. "That outburst that Ben and I shared the other night? He didn't say anything to me that I hadn't been saying to myself all along." He looks over at Sue. "If I wasn't under such a tremendous time crunch to get this done *yesterday*, I'd have never resorted to using someone like Slade Wilson to do something so ethically questionable." He blinks a few times and rubs his forehead. "It'll be at least another couple of hours before I can sleep, if I'm to hold up my end of our bargain with the devil." A tirade, he was ready for, a bitching out, stormy silence any of it. But her kindness. That's caught him off guard. Mother hen mode, activated. Sue doesn't currently have any one to fuss over, with Reed and Ben Grimm both out of town and Johnny doing his own thing and Ben Reilly gone to ground figuratively. "Well, if it'll help, I can fix you some tea or coffee, then you could take one of the guest rooms in the Baxter for a few hours..." Yeah, that's not just kindness anymore, it's downright worry. She's seen Reed make himself just this side of ILL from lack of sleep. And he's presumably got an extra bit of buffer from being all stretchy and stuff. Agent Coulson gives Sue a wan smile. "I can if you can give me access to your SHIELD communications terminal. I could definitely use a cup of something hot and a soft place to put my head for a few hours." He says, "I'm honestly glad you were there, Sue... You probably saved me from an awkward ending. Deathstroke has a wicked sense of humor. He's left me tied up after one of our meetings on at least one other occasion. That gets old fast." Sue Storm smiles back, much more warmly and genuinely. She'll save the Riot Act for later. "I can definitely do that." They're approaching the Baxter, and that same balcony. "Why do you work with that guy? He seems ... really distasteful." Okay, maybe the synopsis on the dust cover of the Riot Act? Phil Coulson squints. "He's got... issues with authority, but he acts with a code of honor. He's also very good at what he does. Some parts of my job aren't pretty, and cross ethical lines. I'd rather have someone for whom that area is their comfort zone in an operation than try and recruit someone like you, for whom the ethical and legal justifications would have to be made. Bottom line, I'm in a terrible hurry to put this threat assessment and action plan together. The wicked never rest, so neither must I." He steps onto the balcony and into the Baxter Building. "Let's see about that coffee... It's been a long day." Category:Log